The Trouble with Demons

by Shearin, Lisa

  “Thanks, but I’ve come to that conclusion all by my lonesome. I’m a Benares, remember? We’re allergic to iron bars. But Mychael needs to know about Rudra Muralin, and he definitely needs to see that letter.” I paused. “And he needs to know about our . . . problem.”

  Tam scowled.

  “Yeah, I know you don’t like it, but after what just happened, you know we need help. But if you have a better idea, I’d love to hear it.”

  Tam’s silence said he didn’t.

  “I’ve already told you that you’re not on Mychael’s list of suspects—and even though Rudra Muralin didn’t sign it, that letter’s just as good as a confession.”

  Tam laughed softly. “One letter’s not going to change Carnades’s mind. Mychael is probably about the only one who doesn’t have me at the top of their suspect list. Part of Mychael’s job is to know the names of the dark mages on Mid.” Tam grinned in a baring of fangs and teeth. “Most lawmen would stop at knowing names; Mychael makes the extra effort to personally inform these mages that he knows what they’re up to, and if they break the law, they will pay the price.”

  “Bet that makes him popular with the black magic crowd.”

  “Over the years, several have gotten annoyed enough to try to do something about it. As a result of acting on their annoyance, Mid now has four less dark mages.”

  “Mychael killed them?’

  “One got obliterated by his own spell. Mychael simply deflected it back at him.”

  I gave a low whistle. “Payback is hell.” And deflecting something that big took even bigger magical mojo.

  “The other three joined forces against him.” His tone turned admiring. “Mychael took all three of them down. At the same time.”

  “Deflected spells?”

  Tam shook his head. “No, just Mychael. There wasn’t enough left for the watch to clean up.”

  I blinked.

  “Those three had killed four students and injured nearly a dozen others. Mychael doesn’t tolerate black magic anywhere near the students.”

  Students. Piaras. And Talon.

  Damn.

  Sarad Nukpana had done it, so had Rudra Muralin, and now Carnades Silvanus. They had used people we loved, threatened them with death and worse to get us to do what they wanted. It had happened to both Piaras and Talon. My lips narrowed into a thin, angry line. The demons wiggling through that Hellgate would be serving flavored ices back home before I let that happen again.

  “Did you hear what Carnades said about Piaras and Talon in the watcher station?”

  Tam’s voice was dangerously soft. “No, I didn’t.”

  I told him.

  His long fingers clenched the glass in his hand. I expected it to shatter. “Carnades’s prejudice will spread like a disease.” His words were equally soft, and just as scary.

  “Where’s Talon now?” I asked.

  Tam tilted his head, indicating a long hallway on the other side of the room. “In his room where he will stay until I can secure escorts that he cannot lose.”

  “Did he tell you what happened in the Quad?”

  “I saw most of it through your eyes; so I had a good idea as to the rest. Talon doesn’t know that, nor will he. Having four Guardians escort him home gave me the perfect excuse to get his side of the story, directly from him.” Tam sighed wearily. “My son is, shall we say, creative in his evasion of blame.”

  I couldn’t help but smile. “Like father, like son.”

  “In Talon’s version, he played but a minor role. You and Piaras ended up with the credit for the demon’s defeat.”

  “That was no minor role.”

  “I know.”

  “Your son has some major pipes.” I hesitated. I didn’t want to bring up painful memories, but if anything like the Quad happened again, I needed to know what Talon had in his vocal arsenal. “Talon’s mother. What was her spellsinging specialty?”

  “She was a nightclub singer. If she was anything more, she hid it well.”

  Just like Talon.

  “Do you know anything about her family?” I asked.

  “Nothing.”

  His answer was abrupt—and I knew Tam well enough to recognize it for the lie it was. Tam knew but he wasn’t telling. I wasn’t going to push him on it, at least not now. It was probably just painful memories of the woman he once loved, now dead. Probably.

  “Does your family know about Talon?” No one other than Tam knew until last week. I didn’t know if Rudra Muralin or any of the Khrynsani got a chance to send word back home of the new addition to the Mal’Salin family, but if they did, it could be trouble of the worst kind—for Talon and for Tam. Tam’s only connection to the Mal’Salin family had been through his late wife. He’d told me that they hadn’t had any children, so you’d think the Mal’Salins wouldn’t care what Tam did—or who he did it with. Apparently once in the family, always in the family; especially when you’d been the goblin queen’s chief shaman for five years. The Mal’Salins didn’t let go of that kind of talent. I couldn’t throw rocks; my family was the same way.

  “They know,” Tam said simply. “They have requested that I deny him.”

  I snorted. “Requested? The roundabout goblin way of saying ‘do it or else.’ ”

  “Precisely.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  Tam smiled coldly. “What I’ve already done. Formally acknowledged Talon as blood of my blood, my son, and my heir.”

  I whistled. “That put you and the kid in the royal crosshairs.”

  “I was in the family’s crosshairs before—and so was Talon. I’ve merely put my cards on the table. I will not deny what is mine.”

  “You can’t be the only Mal’Salin with a half-breed child.”

  “I’m not, but the royal family keeps any dalliances—”

  “Under the covers where they belong.”

  “Their opinion is not mine. And with Rudra Muralin still at large, and the Mal’Salins aware of Talon’s existence, he has had an escort.”

  “I didn’t see any guards.”

  “He has two, and this morning Talon eluded them. Though I’m certain he did it more out of a desire to rebel than any true desire to lose them.”

  “It’s his way or no way,” I said. “Again, sounds like you.”

  “Talon has assured me that it won’t happen again. Many of the students who are of noble goblin blood have similar bodyguard arrangements. Talon doesn’t stand out in the least.”

  I laughed. I couldn’t help it. I knew what Tam meant by protected. “Oh, I’m sure your colleagues blend right into the woodwork. Other kids have muscle protecting them; Talon has a dark mage hit squad.”

  “Until the danger to my son is past—that is, until I see Rudra Muralin’s cold, dead body for myself—then yes, my colleagues will remain here protecting my son. You have taken similar precautions for Piaras?”

  Talon had dark mages. Piaras had pirates. A good choice if any potential attackers chose steel or clubs. Problem was, demons didn’t favor either weapon—and neither did Carnades. Vegard was doing his best to keep me off of a slab in the morgue, or a cell in the citadel. I’d ask Mychael to make a similar arrangement for Piaras.

  I tossed back the rest of my drink. “If Muralin doesn’t get what he wants, how long will it take him to get that Hellgate fully open?”

  “He’s only completed the first steps to opening it,” Tam said. “The types of demons spotted around the city today are nothing; they’re just the beginning. It will take days to get a Hellgate fully open and stabilized. That’s why it takes an obscene amount of strength to open one—that and stamina.”

  “So Muralin’s somewhere on this island giving himself a psychic hernia opening a Hellgate.”

  “Unless he doesn’t want it all the way open.”

  “Why?”

  “Like you said, he wants the Saghred, not an island seething with demons.”

  “And because extortion works better that way,” came Myc
hael’s voice from the now-open door.

  Chapter 12

  Mychael looked at me with a mixture of concern and relief. “You’re still here.” He left out “with Tam,” but his eyes said it clearly enough. “Vegard, allow no one in.”

  “Yes, sir.” Vegard had the look of a man who knew a chewing out was coming. I knew it was my fault. What had happened between Tam and me wouldn’t have happened if Vegard had been in the room with us. I owed my bodyguard an apology—and myself a swift kick for not listening to him.

  Mychael closed the door.

  “I asked Vegard to stay in the hall,” I told him. “My fault, not his. So, if you’re—”

  Mychael held up a hand. “The last order I gave Vegard was to get you out of watcher headquarters.”

  “He did a fine job.”

  “I expected nothing less.”

  “After what happened in the Quad, I needed to talk to Tam, so I insisted that we come here.”

  “I assumed as much. I needed to find you, so knowing exactly where to look saved me some much-needed time.”

  Mychael’s sea blue eyes went from me to Tam, searching, assessing, and knowing—but not judging. At least not judging me. He knew. How could he not sense the umi’atsu bond between Tam and me? Mychael was the paladin of the Conclave Guardians, duty bound to be the scourge of black magic practitioners everywhere. If what Tam and I had wasn’t blooming black magic, I didn’t know what was.

  “Tam and I have a very big problem.” I didn’t care what my family said; confession was good for the soul—or at least the nerves.

  “Umi’atsu,” Tam said simply.

  Mychael didn’t even bat an eye. “How far has it gone?”

  “Far enough.”

  I spoke. “He knows exactly how crappy my day has been.” I tried for glib, all I got was ignored.

  “She doesn’t know, does she?” Mychael’s voice was low and quiet.

  Tam drew himself up. “I won’t surrender to it, so I didn’t think it necessary to tell her. She’s been through enough already.”

  I looked from one to the other. “As fascinating as it is to listen to the two of you talk about me as if I’m not here, would one—or both—of you tell just what the hell is going on?”

  Mychael’s face was an expressionless mask. “You tell her, or I will.”

  “An umi’atsu bond does more than link two mages,” Tam said. “It enables them to tap into each other’s power.”

  “Like what we did under the embassy and in the Quad. I understand that. What’s so . . . ?” Cold realization prickled down my back. “Back it up; did you say each other’s power?”

  He nodded. “Magically speaking, we are becoming one. You can focus and use my power now.” He hesitated. “Eventually, I will be able to do the same with yours.”

  “Tam, my power’s nothing to write home about. You’re talking about the Saghred’s power.”

  “Yes.”

  Just when I thought my day couldn’t get any worse.

  “As far as the Saghred is concerned, we will be one and the same,” he told me. “Actually, I could probably tap the Saghred’s power now.” His expression was bleak and hard.

  “Now?” Reality sank in, and lately my reality hasn’t been pretty. “You could use the Saghred.” Saying it out loud just made it worse.

  “Or the Saghred could use him,” Mychael finished for me. “Either way is just as dangerous. You were only a moderately talented sorceress until just a few weeks ago. Tam has been a master of the dark arts for most of his adult life. He would immediately be able to wield the Saghred’s power to its full extent.”

  Tam spoke. “Raine, it won’t happen, but the—”

  “Damn right, it won’t,” I shot back.

  “But the consequences would be dire if it did,” he pressed forcefully. “So we have to face all possibilities. If the Saghred ever gained complete control of me, the only way to stop me—and to destroy what I would become—would be to kill me.” He looked to Mychael like a man about to ask the ultimate favor of a friend.

  “If it comes to that, I will be there for you,” Mychael promised with quiet conviction.

  Tam inclined his head in formal gratitude. “Thank you.”

  “Thank you?” I couldn’t believe this. “Thank you? No, no, there’ll be no thank-yous, no need to ‘be there’ for anybody, because none of this is going to happen.”

  My heart was pounding absurdly loud in my ears. The Saghred didn’t want to use Tam; it wanted Tam to use it. Tam couldn’t get his hands on the Saghred, but he’d just gotten his hands on me. Use me, use the Saghred. Oh shit. The rock was starving and it wanted souls. There was no way in hell that I was feeding the thing and the Saghred knew it, so it forged an umi’atsu bond between me and Tam. Since I refused to feed it, given enough time and temptation, Tam just might.

  I turned to Mychael. “In watcher headquarters, when I vaporized those demons, I didn’t feel anything holding the Saghred back. Are the containments—”

  “Gone,” Mychael confirmed. “A few hours ago, I received a report from the citadel saying that the containment spells around the Saghred have failed, as have the wards on the room. The timing coincided precisely with what you did. I’ve ordered my men to guard the door to the containment room; it’s no longer safe to be in the room itself.”

  That explained why Sarad Nukpana was able to put in a guest appearance in my dream—and why I couldn’t get rid of him. No restraints on the Saghred meant no restraints on Nukpana. The Saghred was free and clear to do anything it could persuade, compel, or trick me into doing; and in a matter of days, hours, or even right now, it could do the same to Tam. What we’d done with each other and to each other was the Saghred testing the waters, seeing how much it could get away with. It was a test we’d both failed.

  I took a shallow breath and pushed it out, trying to calm down. It didn’t work, so I tried another. Calm wasn’t happening. Screw calm. “None of that will happen,” I repeated it like that would help make the nightmare any less real. “The Saghred can’t be invincible; there has to be a way to destroy it.”

  “Raine, our top mages and scholars couldn’t find a way,” Mychael said. “Neither could the Guardians. The best of our order couldn’t even scratch it.”

  I let the silence sit for a moment. “When was the last time anyone tried?”

  “When your father brought the Saghred back to Mid.”

  “Anybody tried to whack the damned thing lately? All it’s eaten in nine hundred years is my father and Sarad Nukpana. It’s starving. And it’s latched on to me, so we know it’s desperate. That rock is vulnerable—and it knows it.”

  “It just tore through the strongest containments spells possible,” Mychael reminded me. “That’s not vulnerable.”

  “Sarad Nukpana told me before that the Saghred is conserving energy for important things, so apparently it doesn’t have much to spare. But if that rock manages to get itself a decent meal, then we’ll really be in trouble. Uncle Ryn’s still alive because he doesn’t wait around for his enemies to get stronger. He kills them right the first time.”

  “Raine, it repelled that Reaper,” Tam said. “That was not the act of a weak enemy.”

  Mychael went very still. “Reaper?”

  I waved a dismissive hand. “Yeah, one tried to suck all the souls out of the rock through me. It didn’t succeed, and I’m hoping it won’t come back for seconds.” I pressed on before Mychael started asking questions, then making demands beginning with me going back to the citadel.

  I ticked today’s events off on my fingers. “I squashed that yellow demon, vaporized three of the blue ones, and held off a Reaper—all with the Saghred’s help.” I grinned and felt it turn fierce. “The rock’s been working hard today.”

  “The most vulnerable enemy can also be the deadliest,” Mychael noted coolly. “To survive, such an enemy will risk everything. The reward is great, but the consequences of failure are greater.”

  �
�So you’re saying we shouldn’t try?”

  “Not at all, but I don’t go into a battle without a strategy.

  And make no mistake, this would be a battle, possibly one we would not survive.”

  “So ‘walk in, smash rock’ isn’t a strategy.”

  Mychael’s lips actually curled into a grin. “It’s not used very much.”

  “Sometimes simple is best,” I countered. “The previous efforts to destroy the Saghred, they were all magical, right?”

  “Mostly.”

  “Whenever Phaelan wants something gone, he blows it up. The Saghred looks like a cannonball; I say we use it like one. Put a big enough powder charge behind it . . . And if it doesn’t work, some payback would feel good right about now. That rock has done enough to us; it has to stop.”

  “Raine, I—”

  “Tam’s not going to die, and you’re not killing him.” My words lashed out in anger and desperation. “The two of you talk about it like it’s some kind of twisted gentleman’s agreement. Tam’s just nobly going to stand there while you lop off his head—all because of that damned rock.”

  “That is a worst-case scenario,” Mychael said firmly. “I don’t want to kill Tam.”

  Tam smiled crookedly. “And I’m not keen on dying.”

  I ran a hand over my face. “Then let’s stop talking about what you say won’t happen and find a way to make sure that it doesn’t.” I looked at Mychael. “Tam says an umi’atsu bond can’t be broken—safely.”

  “It can’t. And even with the few reported successes, the process was extended over weeks. We don’t have weeks. The Saghred links the two of you, and now with it unbound, you may only have days, perhaps only hours. Tam, can you hear Raine’s thoughts?”

  “No, only when she’s really scared.”

  “I’m not scared; I’m pissed.”

  “Tam and I got that impression loud and clear,” Mychael said, smiling faintly. “No mind reading necessary.”

  “There are four stages to an umi’atsu bond,” Tam told me. “I believe we’re halfway between the first and second stage.”

  I glowered. “What’s stage two?”

  “I’d know exactly what you’re calling the two of us right now.”